Staying the Course
by partsguy
Summary: Quite a few years have gone by since Joan returned from Leominster. Both Morse's and her lives have changed in ways that neither expected. A lazy day of reflection for them both.


**Staying the Course**

"Morse, wake up, it's snowing!"

Joan had loved day's like this ever since she was a little girl. Back then it had meant that she didn't have to go to school. Now that she was an adult, she loved them for a different reason. It meant a day that she didn't have to negotiate Oxford traffic to work, only to see how many balls she could keep in the air throughout the day. Than at the end of the day facing the equally bad traffic as she struggled to return home.

Today though had brought the ultimate reward, although she couldn't take as much advantage as when she had been younger. The weather forecast the previous evening had predicted a major snowfall for Oxford and the surrounding area throughout the day. So as soon as she awakened, she had slipped out of bed, gone over to the window, pulled the curtain back to check. To her delight it was indeed snowing, evidently having only recently started as the grass was not yet covered. But the flakes were small which, in her experience, indicated a prolonged snow.

Wanting to share her excitement she walked back over to the bed, sat down on the edge, and shook the figure who lay buried somewhere underneath a mound of covers. "Morse, wake up, it's snowing.!"

There was some slight movement underneath the covers and a noise which sounded like it could have been "really?" but perhaps not. The covers then moved to indicate he had turned over, an obvious dismissal to her excitement.

"oh, you're no fun" she told him, giving the covers a playful whack before getting up and going to the window again. There she paused to look out and admire the beauty of the falling snow before heading for the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. If Morse wanted to be an old grump on such a glorious morning that was his loss.

After she got the coffee pot going, she decided to go ahead and make her breakfast, a couple of slices of toast along with some marmalade would be enough. From the kitchen table she could look out over the back yard as she sipped her coffee. The snow was beautiful falling, and she liked watching the small birds flitting around the feeder. She reminded herself that she probably needed to add seed, as Morse never remembered to check it. In fact it was only there because she had bought it and put it up. Morse would never have thought of such a thing. She should do it before the snow got too deep, and besides it would give her an excuse to go outside and, admit it, play.

Sitting watching the snow fall was delightful, although she had hoped that Morse would be up to share breakfast with her. She missed the experience of cooking for someone, something that had come as a surprise to her. With the kids grown and attempting to make their own way in life they were seldom home. When they were it seemed they were constantly on the go, seldom having time for a real meal with her. And then there was Morse. She didn't want to think about his eating problems this morning, so she put them aside.

When their schedules allowed it, and it seemed to be less often now, she spent her evenings at his place, although for some reason he was reluctant to stay the night at hers. Odd, she'd never really understood why, but no matter. Even after all these years they still had their moments of intimacy, but that didn't seem to be as important as it once was. Regardless staying at his gave her the opportunity to try and take care of him, to really try to get him to eat right, and to cut back on the alcohol. It had been about ten years now, she thought, since he had gotten the first warnings of diabetes. Or at least the first she knew about it. But he still refused to make a serious concerted effort to get his health under control. Lord they had had some rows about that over the years. She could see that his health was slowly getting worse, she had even talked to the doctors herself, but there was only so much she could do.

The snow was so beautiful falling, but she so hated to be eating alone.

The voice on the radio said that they could expect at least 15 centimeters of snowfall before the snow ended. The authorities were encouraging people to stay off the streets and stay indoors. She wondered how her children were coping, whether they try to make it home. Fred she wasn't worried about, the team was on a road trip and would provide accommodations. Her daughter had been scheduled to play a pub in Reading, so she should have accommodations as well. If they had problems, they both knew how to get in touch with her. Hopefully they wouldn't feel compelled to do so.

Even though the heat was on, she felt a slight chill, so decided to build a fire. Bringing in a few pieces from the small stash of wood that she had persuaded Morse in lay in last year, or was it the year before that, she soon had a fire going. While the fire began to take hold, she decided to make herself another cup of coffee. Having added a bit of cream as well as just a touch of sugar she walked back and sat down on the hearth. From there she could look out over the front yard and watch as the snow slowly built up around the red Jaguar.

Basking in the warmth from the fire at her back, and the coffee cup in her hands, she allowed her mind to drift. It had been oh, almost thirty years since she had opened the door and laid eyes on a gangly yet handsome young constable. She was already a grown woman at the time, yet in some ways it seemed that her life had begun that day. Since then there had been so many changes, both of people and circumstances in her life. As she sat there, she thought back over the names and faces throughout the years. Peter Jakes, so handsome, yet a coward, was living in America as far as she knew. Supposedly a cowboy she thought. There had been George Fancy, who she hardly had known, he had been lying in his grave now for over twenty years. Shirley Trewlove, who had befriended her at that protest rally, making sure that she wasn't arrested and never telling her Dad what had happened. She had accepted a transfer to the Met and was in London the last she had heard. Had she gotten over George Fancy's death? It would have been nice to have kept in touch with her. Probably married now with a bunch of kids. Then there was Doctor DeBrym, the fates hadn't been so kind to him. He had ended up on a slab under the knife of one of his colleague's. And Jim Strange, a good friend to both she and Morse, had fared the best of them all. He had risen from uniformed constable to Superintendent while never losing his humanity. Throughout the years when she had needed someone to listen to her it was always Jim.

Then there was her career, such as it was. Going from a clerk in an Oxford Bank to Managing Director of the social agency she headed today. Who would have ever believed it from a coppers daughter? Oh but there had been so many turning points. Looking back she couldn't believe she had run off to Leominster leaving her life behind her. What if she had followed her emotions and let Morse convince her to stay that morning? It was still difficult to believe that she had allowed herself to be impregnated by Ray. How different her life would be if it hadn't been for that fall that had caused a miscarriage. Would Ray have left his wife and children for her as he said? Then it had all looked so right with her engagement to Morse yet gone so horribly wrong. And then there had been Robert, who had picked her up after Morse had pushed her away on the eve of their wedding. Robert who had given her two beautiful children. But that same Robert who couldn't stay the course when the newness wore off. Along the way she had met so many people. People from all walks of life, and all types of circumstances.

Quite a journey when you thought about it. Her parents had tried to keep her grounded and on the right course. She had learned so much from them. They had made her the woman she had become, and she could never thank them enough for that. She could only hope that she had been a similar influence on her children's lives. She hoped that she would live to see grandchildren. She missed her Dad every day, sometimes it seemed hard to believe that he was gone. How long had it been since she had picked up the phone to call him, before stopping herself? She still had her mom, although it wouldn't be very long before she wouldn't be able to live alone. And then what could she do to help?

And through it all was the man sleeping in the next room. A man that had at times exasperated her to no end, yet she had always run back to in a crisis. Not a confidant like Jim Strange, but her rock, she had to smile at the analogy as she thought back to how gangly he had been as a young man. Maybe her North Star would be more apt. Still whenever she had been in trouble, she had always turned to him.

"Coffee made I see" lost in her reverie she hadn't heard him come into the room. As usual he wasn't his best first thing after he had risen. Rumpled clothing, hair a mess, and a look on his face that he didn't fancy having to rise. Looking at him there she thought back to the first time, nearly twenty years gone now, they had seen the dawn together. The years had certainly taken their toll, but he himself had probably aggravated the effect more than a little.

"Yes, you ready for a cup?"

He came across the room, went past her to the window, paused for a moment to look over the snow blanketing everything outside. She could tell by his posture that he wasn't as happy to see it as she was, detecting what was apparently a small shudder before he turned away. "Looks cold out there."

"you don't have to go out today do you?"

"hopefully not, I'm on call, but Etheridge is capable, he'll be able to cope."

She had found a cup and poured him a coffee, leaving it black as he preferred it. "What would you like for breakfast? "

"I'm not hungry, coffee is fine."

"Morse, you need to eat, in case you've forgotten we went by the market."

"I'm not hungry."

It was about that time that they heard the telltale sound of her pager going off. She put aside the attempt to coax him into eating while she found it. Locating it in the pocket of her jacket she dug it out and checked the number. "Morse, can I use your phone, evidently there is something going on at the office."

"Certainly, you know where it is." He thought to himself that it had been perfect timing, now maybe she would leave him alone about eating.

He had to admit that coffee was much more enjoyable when Joan made it. One of life's many mysteries he thought. They both used the same pot, the same ingredients and as far as he knew in the same amounts. You would think that the resulting brew would be the same. Yet you would be wrong. The difference was marked, hers much more satisfying than his own, again one of life's little mysteries. What some would call a woman's touch he supposed. He let his mind wander, enjoying his coffee, while hoping crime decided to take a day off so that he could stay inside where it was warm and dry. No odds on it though, even on a snowy Sunday morning.

He looked up as Joan came back and sat down beside him, one eyebrow reflexively raised when he saw that her mood wasn't as cheery as before. He felt he had to ask the question. "Everything all right?"

"Not sure yet. Lot of people calling in saying they can't come in because of the roads. If it gets any worse, I may have to try and go in myself" She saw the look on his face and added a bit hastily she thought, "I'd rather stay here with you of course."

"Of course."

"Sure you don't want anything to eat?"

"Sure"

"Morse…..how many times have we talked about your diet?"

"Not today ok? Lets just hope neither one of us have to go in".

"If you're sure"

He sat his cup back down and gave her a look. A look she had seen too many times before when they started down this road. So she held her hands up in mock surrender and looked to see how much more snow had fallen.

They sat there in silence for a bit just enjoying each other's company before she recognized a change in him. He was no longer just watching the snow fall, something had come to his mind. She gave him another minute or so before asking him. "what's on your mind? Think you may have to go in today as well?"

"Hmm, no nothing, just gathering wool."

"I know you better than that Morse, what is it?"

"nothing important"

She knew he would eventually tell her, if she waited, the silent treatment always worked with him.

Sure enough. "I was just thinking,"

"yes"

"about how quiet it is in the house."

"yes, want to try on the radio, put on a record?"

"that's not what I was talking about."

"then what?"

"whether you were disappointed?"

"disappointed? How so?"

"weeeell,"

Now wasn't the time to push. So she waited.

"I know you have your children, by Robert, but I've sometimes thought…..you…..we…..were still young enough to have children, when we …."

She saw where this was going although they had never had the conversation. So she reached over and touched him on the sleeve. "Is that's what's bothering you?"

"Not exactly bothering me"

"well don't let it, I'm not worried about it."

"you sure?"

"Morse I would have been happy to have a child by you, but it doesn't change how I feel,… about us."

He gave her the faintest of smiles, the least possible and nodded his head.

"after all we've come a long way, haven't we? And we're not finished yet."

That answer seemed to satisfy him, although she felt that deep down, he did harbor regrets. That she had her children by her marriage to Robert, while he, even though they had not tried to prevent it, had not been similarly successful.

As it turned out neither of them was required to go in to work, that day. Instead they lounged around the house until lunch. After which Joan had bundled up and taken advantage of the need to refill the bird feeder to go out in the snow for a short while. Morse, having spied what he took to be the paper boy, did manage the energy to go retrieve it before it was covered by the still falling snow.

For the rest of the afternoon each of them relaxed in their respective ways. Morse after devouring the crossword started in on the paper itself. She fortunately had the foresight to bring a novel with her in case something like this happened. First though she decided to make up the bed, and generally straighten up the house. She would like to get back to her house before dark if possible. Cold weather did strange things with pipes sometimes, and she would feel more comfortable at home. The question was whether she would be able to get back, given the condition of the roads. She knew that if she insisted Morse would try, but the Jag was not the best vehicle in these conditions. So after finishing with the bedroom she got the book and drawing her legs up under her curled up on the couch.

It was the sound of the book hitting the floor that woke her up, evidently, she had dozed off while reading. Morse however hadn't budged, he was asleep in the chair, mouth slightly open, his snoring as regular as any clock. She pulled the curtain back, looking out to see whether it was still snowing. If it was it was very fine flakes, when the flakes got larger, she would know it was about to stop. But the fire had gone out, so she raised herself off the couch and went to get more wood to get it started again. Despite her efforts to keep as quiet as possible Morse was awake when she got back.

"need some help with that?"

She huffed a little laugh "I've done the hard part."…"no, I've got it ."

As the fire was slowly building up, Morse got up to go fix himself a drink, "you want anything to drink"

She looked back outside momentarily before turning back to him, "if there's any of that red wine left"

He nodded and went to the liquor cabinet where he prepared drinks for both. Coming back he handed her the glass of red wine as she had requested before returning to his seat. After a moment he asked her "staying the night?...I wish you would."

"doesn't look as if I much choice really…not that I mind"

"then stay, maybe the roads will be better in the morning."

"we can hope. Otherwise we will both be playing hooky."

After a brief silence he abruptly changed the subject. "Let me ask you a question"

Unsure of what he had on his mind all she could say was "certainly, ask me anything."

"what do you think about me making a change, leaving Thames Valley CID?"…"nothing definite just thinking about it."

To say she was shocked was perhaps an overstatement, yet she was certainly surprised by his question. So much so that she had to gather herself for a moment, the thought had never crossed her mind. The best she could do was a rather lame "to do what?"

"I can't say at this point, but it would have some advantages."

"such as?"

"sometimes more interesting work, Likely fewer mutilated bodies to look at"

"and the downside?"

"they haven't gotten around to telling me about those yet."

She had to smile at the way he put that. Rather than pursue it just now she responded with, "what do you want for dinner?" He was usually more communicative over a meal.

As they sat down to dinner, she wondered was he ready to talk about the several topics he had brought up during their "snow day". It seemed that despite the length of their relationship she sometimes thought that they had barely scraped the surface. Regardless she wasn't going to push him, although she herself had been thinking seriously about something he had said earlier.

Sure enough Morse predictably began to talk about the possibility of his leaving Thames Valley CID. While he was usually reticent to talk about work, he was even more sketchy about this proposal. It appeared that he had been approached by some men he had known, rather shadowy men it appeared, during his days at Cowley. They had hinted that they were looking for someone with his background. Someone that they knew and could trust. As for the details he knew, or claimed he knew very little. Would he be able to stay in Oxford, must he relocate, pay, etc. He was just trying to gauge her reaction to such a change. Although he did tell her that he was seriously considering following up the invitation. Perhaps he could use a change at this point.

The fact that Morse had even mentioned children earlier meant that he had likely been thinking about it for some time. She on the other hand hadn't given it a thought, after all she had her children by Robert, and that had been satisfying enough. But perhaps that was a bit of selfishness on her part. Of course there was the matter of their ages, they weren't young anymore. And what kind of father would Morse make? Did she want to go through the burden of child rearing again? None of her friends had born children at this point in their lives, and of course there was her job. She had to check her calendar, but she thought she had an appointment with her physician soon. Maybe they needed to discuss it. She took another sip of wine before saying "I'm sorry Morse, what was that?"

"What I said was, suppose it would mean a relocation?"

She knew what he was trying to ask but wasn't going to make it easy for him. "Yes, what if it did mean you would have to locate?"

He paused inspecting the bottom of his glass before swirling his drink, doing everything he could to avoid answering.

"well, Morse what is it you want to say?"

Oh, I don't know forget it. We'll talk about it later."

Well that was it. He wasn't ready to ask whether, if he had to relocate, she would be willing to move as well. It could be put off, she supposed he may not even pursue it.

She was having trouble falling asleep, and it wasn't just his snoring. And his arm around her wasn't uncomfortable or restricting. Normally neither of them bothered her, she was generally asleep before he was. But tonight was different, she couldn't stop thinking about what he had said earlier. And, truth be told it had started her to thinking. Maybe it wasn't too late for them. When they had been young, she had dreamt of their having children. Then it had all gone so wrong so quickly that, after having Robert's children she hadn't given it anymore thought. Well, sweetheart if you're going to do something you had better do it.

She didn't have time to wait for her scheduled appointment, she would call Jennifer first thing in the morning and get in to see her. Meanwhile she needed to get some sleep.


End file.
